


Nowhere

by bizzylizzy



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Modern Akatsuki, Time to commit crimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24667564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bizzylizzy/pseuds/bizzylizzy
Summary: At a gas station the middle of nowhere, a juvenile delinquent and a hitman meet.Murder is inevitable; death is always preferred.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for the implication of possible underage prostitution.

Itachi had never been the kind of child to get into trouble.

Itachi had been the kind of child told by every person he valued in his life how intelligent, diligent, and exemplary he was. He was a child for whom nothing could be out of line, every decision must be precise, and every project, activity, test, and competition excelled at in an escalation of perfection that must surely have a disastrous peak.

For Shisui, an equal genius, three years older, it peaked in a private rehab masquerading as a college prep boarding school for gifted and rich early highschool graduates.

Itachi, perhaps better genius, perhaps disillusioned and too morally rigid for his own good, it peaked at fourteen in a calamity.

A calamity that ended in Juvie.  
~  
As a child, Itachi expected to end up a professor at a college, a lawyer, a doctor, or some kind of CEO.

Instead, he was working as a night clerk at a gas station. 

Being the night clerk at the gas station normally meant long hours of nothing with some surreal visits. Tonight Itachi watched a man easily seven foot tall getting a cup of coffee and energy drinks. Itachi was surprised he hadn't gotten out of a long haul truck, but it looked like the man was driving an older pick-up. Itachi watched the man in the same way he watched the other late-night visitors. He had broad hands and moved lightly for such a large person. He had a straight bladed knife in one boot he didn't bother to cover. Itachi couldn't remember what length of knife was illegal in this state. The man also got a chicken liver out of the bait fridge.

That explained the knife.

Itachi heard the car pull up, broadside to the doors, and he really should have known then.

But all the pieces did not fully come into place until the boy, no older than Itachi, was in the store with a gun pointed at Itachi's head. He turned the gun turned sideways in a cocky mimicry of movie violence.

This was not the first time Itachi had looked down the barrel of a gun.

"All the money or I shoot you!" The boy yelled. Maybe he was younger than Itachi. His voice cracked. Itachi had already punched the panic button under the counter and held up his hands where they could be seen.

"All right," Itachi stepped to the side, catching the movement of the man in his periphery. "I don't have the keys to the safe, but I can give you what is in the register." Itachi kept his words slow, drawing them out more than he usually did.

"Hurry up!" The boy shouted. The gun jigged up and down in his hand as his entire body gestured towards Itachi. "Or I'll shoot!" 

Itachi nodded and opened the cash register slowly. As he did this, the man walked up behind the boy. With no rush, no pause, no hesitation, the man brought up a huge hand to engulf the back of the boy's head, slamming it down and forward into the counter. The car engine revved and the car peeled off as the boy collapsed. Itachi dropped down behind the counter and to the side of where he had been until he heard a laugh.

"The safety," A deep voice rumbled. "Is on." Itachi peered over the counter to see the man check the chamber for a bullet before removing the clip and sliding it across the counter to Itachi. Itachi caught it and placed it under the counter.

"Thank you," Itachi said, even if he had evidently not been in any danger of being shot.

The man smirked, a vicious slash of white teeth. His question was genial, belying the rough exterior, and practiced violence. Itachi wasn't fooled or disturbed.

"What are you, ten?"

"Nineteen," Itachi corrected mildly. "The cops are on the way, but it will be about forty minutes before they arrive."

"Shit," The man looked at his truck. "Give me a pack of smokes, then."

"I need to see your ID," Itachi said. A greater degree of raised eyebrows, but the man set the gun down and dug his wallet out of his back pocket. Itachi heard the boy writhing on the ground. Itachi took his time looking over the information before handing it back. 

"What kind?"

"Marlboro Reds," Kisame said. He looked at his feet. "I'd stay on the floor unless you're really stupid, kid. Nothing's broken _yet_." Kisame looked at Itachi.

"Does this place have cameras?"

"Of course it does," Itachi lied. They didn't work. Kisame looked up at the cameras. He wasn't smiling, but he looked _smug_.

"That's too bad."  
~  
"So he got away," The Sheriff asked.

Itachi nodded. "He ran out." Skepticism followed.

"He had a gun," Itachi added helpfully. the Sheriff raised one eyebrow at Itachi. Itachi kept his face impassive. Outside the store, Kisame was being questioned as well. The younger deputy looked terrified. Kisame kept leaning in by tiny increments. Closer and closer.

"And the cameras aren't working," the man continued. Itachi brought his attention back to the man and nodded.

"Yes." Itachi met the man's gaze steadily until he sighed.

"Right."  
~  
The door opened, but Itachi had already noticed the truck and the man. Itachi watched as again the man gathered drinks, food, and stopped to raid the bait fridge. Itachi leaned back and grabbed the cigarettes as Kisame came up to the counter.

Itachi set them to the side, ignoring the smirking smile the man gave. He had a face set for leering looks. It wasn’t polite to judge people for their faces.

"I need to see your ID," Itachi said as he began to scan the items. Kisame paused, measuring Itachi until Itachi looked up at him.

"They didn't fire you for letting that kid get away?" Kisame didn't go for his wallet.

"My job requirements do not in any way imply that I am to put myself in a situation likely to result in bodily harm to myself or others, even if it is to prevent theft of property or burglary," Itachi said. "That is what the panic button is for."

"So what got you that lecture?" Kisame pulled out his wallet and tapped his ID on the counter.

"Concussing someone with a broomstick, and also locking a meth head in the bathroom." Itachi held out his hand for the ID. Kisame tapped it three more times before handing it over. Itachi could feel further assessment. Kisame filtered all the words and implications.

"Did you get caught, or is that why you're living here?" Itachi asked.

Kisame made a low, amused sound in his throat. "You're making a lot of assumptions there."

"You slammed an armed man's head into a counter hard enough to knock him out, and you've obviously done something like that before. You're either ex-military, a cop, or a felon," Itachi concluded, handing Kisame back his ID.

"Why are you living here?" Kisame asked. 

"It's easier to see people before they see you here," Itachi said. And it explained a lot that Kisame did not need to ask anything more.  
~  
Itachi didn't think things would have changed except he managed to pick up a few hours at a sort of diner, really a glorified cafeteria for a local factory. Other people might drop by for food, but Itachi burned himself on a griddle producing hot dogs, greasy hamburgers, frying chicken strips, fries, cheese curd, and other things sure to cause heart disease.

Itachi, hair up, large eyes, and wearing an apron, found himself labeled "the kitchen girl" day one, and didn't see a reason to argue with anyone about that. It meant no one had really looked at his ID, which could only be a good thing. He kept his uniform polo buttoned and spoke as little as possible. They might even know he was a boy but were choosing to misgender him based on his looks. Either way, Itachi didn't want the attention correction would bring.

It was all money in a pocket, safe for another day.

"Cigarette?" Kisame offered as Itachi came out for his break. 

Itachi took it without lighting it, leaning against the cool cinderblocks of the building. The back of the cooking shack edged an overgrown building and then a forest. The forest, after being cut up by a few 4 wheeler tracks and hunting trails, fell off into the river.

"How do you get anywhere?" Kisame asked.

Itachi pointed to the battered Ford Escort sitting beside the building. Kisame raised eyebrows.

"That car is older than you," The man said.

"It runs." Itachi didn't add why he had that car. "It's a manual. No one tries to steal it."

"Do people try to steal your stuff a lot?"

"Only once, and less out here," Itachi added. He rolled the cigarette in his fingers, breathing in Kisame's smoke before handing it back. "I don't smoke."

"It's never too late to start," Kisame said, but he took the cigarette back.

"It's never too late to quit," Itachi replied. Kisame made that low, scoffing noise in the back of his throat. Like that, the conversation was over.  
~  
But the conversations made bridges, connections, openings.

"What are you fishing for?" Itachi asked, blending it into his next statement. "I need to see your ID."

"No cigarettes. Someone told me to quit," Kisame said. Itachi pulled the pack down anyway and set it on the counter. Kisame measured Itachi again, coolly amused.

"How many people have you killed?"

"Three, directly," Itachi replied with less thought than he should. Most people laughed that off. They looked at Itachi and measured his frame against what they thought of as murderous and giggled. Itachi watched Kisame's lips reveal a little bit of teeth.

But he did not doubt Itachi's words.

"What are you fishing for?" Kisame asked, and for a moment Itachi didn't understand. The words turned back on him felt mocking. Words and events reordered themselves into new significance until Itachi could only think of one word:

_Solicitation._

Itachi put the pack of cigarettes back, feeling like he'd touch a live wire. Hot, cold, _sweat_ all over.

Kisame tossed his ID down on the counter. "Catfish. They sell good here, easy to catch, and no one asks too much about licensing."

Itachi slowly pulled the pack back down. He tossed it to Kisame.

"I could always use an extra hand," The man offered.

"No," Itachi said, the word still too fresh in his mind. Kisame shrugged a little. Took his ID back, paid for the drinks and bait.

As Kisame took the pack of cigarettes, he met Itachi's eyes. "You are not nineteen." Kisame took the pack of cigarettes, and Itachi watched to make sure he had really left before relaxing his grip on the pepper spray the owner now kept under the counter.  
~  
Itachi went from dead sleep to fully awake in a moment. His mind supplied reasons he had woken up: a sound, gunshot, something falling, knocking on the window. Itachi lay perfectly still until another peal of thunder cracked through the air. Slowly, he relaxed, turning into a new position on the backseat of the car. The rain might keep it cool enough for Itachi to get more sleep this morning.

Itachi had living out of his car without looking like he was living out of his car down to an art. He kept things tucked out of the way and in bags. It helped Itachi had only the most basic of possessions. He kept himself scrupulously clean in any way he could, which became difficult in the heavy heat of summer. He made sure his clothes were washed. 

The car was not special. It was almost two decades old, a manual transmission, and would inevitably break down. Itachi would not be able to fix it because he did not have the funds or skill to do so. He barely knew how to maintain it, and the miles kept running up. But. Tha car was the only thing Itachi had gone back to retrieve from his old life. The only illogical thing he’d done since being released, and possibly the stupidest. He’d needed a car, but not this one.

The story with the car was simple: it was Shisui's car.

The attachment to the car stemmed from the scent of a hot car on a summer afternoon. Loud music. Windows down. Hearing Shisui swear for the first time when he tried to learn to drive the car.

It was Itachi wanting to be terrible at driving to make Shisui feel better at how much he struggled, but only stalling the car out once in a parking lot Shisui was practicing in. Shisui had laughed, shaking his head and grinning.

"One day," He'd said. "you're going to be terrible at something, and that will be the one thing you love to do more than anything else."

The attachment in the car came from all the bits and pieces of himself Shisui had left behind in it, that Itachi could slowly dig out and remember what it was like, for those glorious years, to never be alone.

The smart thing to do would be to torch the car and the body, but Itachi could not do it. He could not do it as he could not stop the bleeding in his side. He could not take that final step in severing himself, and he knew that would be what got him killed one day. If he could truly cut his ties, none of his grandfather or his uncle's men would ever find him again.

But he could not.

Instead after a long day or night, Itachi curled up in the car. He closed his eyes and breathed in. He let all the memories stored in the upholstery of the car wash over him. As he fell asleep he could hear a voice or a laugh and he could almost pretend he wasn’t alone.

Tonight, as the wind kicked up and the rain began to hammer down, Itachi got the best sleep he’d had in weeks.  
~  
It took three months for most of the customers at the food shack to decide Itachi was making money on his breaks doing "extra." The first time someone tried to order "something extra" Itachi didn't catch the implication.

It became incredibly obvious when one man spit at Itachi and said "so that bastard is good for you, but I'm not?" Itachi understood Kisame had made these connections before Itachi did, or foresaw them being made, and wanted to clear the air. The idea of anyone touching Itachi made him want to wretch. The way people watched him now made his skin crawl.

"How much do you make fishing?"

Kisame looked up at Itachi.

"It depends," Kisame said. "On what I catch."

"I'm not trying to sleep with you," Itachi clarified. 

"Are you really nineteen?" Kisame asked.

"Do you want to see my ID?" Itachi asked.

"I don't know why, but I have a feeling that your ID is fake," Kisame said.

Itachi was fired soon after from the food shack for "inappropriate behavior" with customers. There are only so many places in this almost town to work, and Itachi needs the money.

Not _that_ badly.

But badly enough.  
~  
The first time Itachi went out on the water after dark was an experience. He was seventy-five percent sure that Kisame would kill him out on the black river. Itachi had been targeted, groomed, and would now end up as an unfound body at the bottom of a body of water. That was how one got rid of bodies. That was why someone would speak to Itachi, a large-eyed creature alone and unlooked for in a no-name town.

Itachi knew statistics. He knew all the large, red "at-risk" boxes he fit into, and the black "dead for sure" boxes he'd placed himself into with his choices. Death at Kisame's hand--or hopefully death and not long imprisonment in some backwoods hideaway--would be simple and clean and almost anticlimactic. It would not be fate, but Itachi's own stupid choice to take a risk on a violent man stalking him.

Because Kisame was, without a doubt, _violent_.

 _Stalking_ could just be coincidence.

The drone of the boat’s engine and the dark slap of humid night air on Itachi's skin made him half numb. Whatever cool the river had didn't penetrate the muggy air. Itachi gripped the metal seat so tightly it hurt his fingers, waiting for the moment when things would go wrong. Kisame slowed the boat, circling a few times before he cut the engine. Kisame stood up, the boat rocking with his weight, and it was all Itachi could do to stay in his seat.

Kisame didn't say anything. Just picked up the anchor and threw it into the water, breaking open the night air like a blister.

"This is your pole," Kisame said. He'd explained on the way to the water they were bottom fishing, and the details of bumping the weight on the bottom of the river, how to set the line and reel the fish in. Now Kisame pointed to the parts of the rod, connecting the theory to the object, and he left Itachi to it. Even when it became obvious Itachi desperately needed more instruction. With a smooth swish, Kisame cast his line and left Itachi to struggle with his clumsy hands. Kisame didn't even comment as Itachi stabbed himself with a hook. 

It felt as if they were the only two people in the world. The air did not cool at night, but without the sun the heat had a different quality. The wet heat sat on the skin instead of wriggling inside every pore. Sweat ran down Itachi's neck, his back, sticking to the backs of his knees until a soft breeze managed to work its way up against his skin.

The water was never silent, lapping against the boat, moving downstream, rustling against the banks and rocks. Fish broke cover in startling punctuations of the silence. Itachi could hear Kisame breathing. There were minute sounds of Kisame fishing, calloused against the pole, movement of the fishing line, the quick catch of the lock on the spool and the sudden reeling in of line tying Itachi to humanity. A crazed mockingbird burst into frenetic song, and the sound of an owl raised goosebumps on Itachi's skin.

Itachi found himself just _gripping_ the pole.

Something dark and deep within Itachi unspooled slowly at the sounds of the water, the insects, the birds. Kisame didn't smoke. He didn't speak. Itachi caught nothing.

This felt like something he had needed for a very long time.  
~  
“It’s a good thing you’re better at selling fish than catching them.” Kisame counted the money Itachi had handed him. Itachi gingerly smoked the cigarette Kisame had given him. They were out behind the gas station before Itachi’s shift began.

“You have an established customer base. It isn’t difficult.” It had been difficult, because Itachi had to become a cheerful kid out to make some extra money. It was the least complicated reason to be selling fish. He’d had to invent a reason for why he was selling the fish to people who were used to Kisame selling them fish. When they had asked “where’s the old guy?” Itachi had coughed up the fiction needed, tying himself and Kisame together in people’s minds. Entangling them.

It did not feel safe.

“Saves me time.” Kisame halved the bills and handed them to Itachi.

“I didn’t catch any of them,” Itachi said, testing the cigarette between his fingers.

“You made an effort.”

“That doesn’t count for anything.”

Kisame leaned over, as if he were going to put the bills somewhere on Itachi’s body. Itachi scrambled up, stepping back and away. Kisame stayed as he was, bills extended to Itachi, patient amusement on his face.

“Do you think you’re going to owe me something for this?” Kisame asked, flicking his fingers at Itachi. It wasn’t much money, but that was not the point. The _point_ sat deeper and darker in Itachi’s gut, dancing on the way Kisame so easily handed the money away.

“This is called establishing an even partnership. I did what I’m good at. You did what you’re good at. We split the rewards.” Kisame kept the money extended.

“I already took my cut,” Itachi said.

Kisame smirked and sat back. “If you overcharge for fish, you’ll lose all your customers.” Still, Kisame folded the bills up, tucking them away as he leaned back. He took a drag from his cigarette and looked at Itachi.

“I’m going out tomorrow night, if you’re interested.”

And Itachi wasn’t and shouldn’t be, because this was called pushing your luck, but he nodded slowly, as Kisame had known he would.  
~  
"I can get you some help if you need it."

Itachi looked up at the manager of the gas station. Itachi rarely saw the woman, she passed through when Itachi had done something not up to code, but usually left things as they were. She only got upset when the cops were involved. She looked older than she probably was, skin sagging and puckered in places. She always smoked. She had to have some kind of pity for Itachi, because she had given him this job and not fired him yet despite his inability to be a meek and mild cashier.

"With the store?" Itachi asked, purposefully playing stupid.

"No," The woman paused, sighing, and taking out her cigarettes to fidget it through her fingers. "With money and a place to stay."

Silence as Itachi just stared at the woman. He felt something begin gripping his spine.

"I can't say how old you are, or that that ID you gave me's not real, but I've been hearing _things_ ," The way the word came out was shameful. Heinous. Itachi felt his body begin to tense for flight. Time to move again. "About that _man_.

"The one who comes in here.

"Who sells the fish."

Itachi's chest became hot and empty and sick deep in his gut. _Things about you and that man._

The not-silence of the black river opened up in Itachi's mind. The sound of Kisame's calloused thumb over the fishing line. _Things_ crawled over his flesh like cold sweat.

The woman's mouth puckered. "And I know you're a good kid, but it's hard to get ahead when you've got behind."

"I am fine,” Itachi said, perfect diction as his hands gripped the counter. “I don’t need anything.” She should not see him. She shouldn’t care. Itachi should not get _noticed_ in ways like this.

"I know you are, but think about it. It's a cheap place and it would be a few more dollars for tomorrow. A little safer than where you're staying, I bet," The woman went on. She offered Itachi a little pamphlet, and Itachi knew the church listed on the front. "Just think about it and let me know."

If people started wondering about him, handing out things, they’d want to know more. His name, his past, his misdeeds. Itachi did not care what they knew, but what their questions would attract. Itachi already had one shark circling the waters around him.

It was past time, Itachi knew as he took the pamphlet, time to go.  
~  
The mistake was this: speaking.

"You shouldn't have taken that car."

The mistake was more accurately the car, but the man should never have spoken before trying to shoot Itachi. He should also have gone for a body shot. Instead, he gave Itachi time to drop to the ground, rolling back to face the threat. The man shot again, and Itachi felt the punch of the bullet as he grabbed the man's arm and twisted him to the ground. The man hit hard, and Itachi broke the man's wrist to get the gun loose. It went off as it hit the ground, and Itachi grabbed it. 

The man was off the ground already, because he was a professional. Itachi shot him once in the stomach before the gun was knocked out of Itachi's hands. Itachi slid past the first punch, grabbing the second to hit the man hard in the bullet wound. He grunted. He headbutted Itachi in the forehead, missing his nose and lips. Lights still flashed, a disorienting rush.

Itachi grabbed the knife from his waistband, and three quick punches ripped open the man's belly. Another through his ribs as he punched Itachi again and bore them both to the ground. The man tried to gouge his fingers into Itachi's eyes, and then went for Itachi's throat, trying to crush it in the last moments before Itachi got the angle right and punched the knife into the man's heart.

Itachi kicked the man off and stood.

He should have hidden the car better. He should have walked more.

He should not have let that bullet hit him, because now he had a body and a bullet hole to deal with. One he could handle. Both he would have to.

The world spun already, but you did what you had to do.

No matter what.  
~  
\------

Kisame could have said a lot of things when he found Itachi pretty much dead in his car at the pier Kisame'd been fishing from. Kisame could have left Itachi there, and he should have, but he didn't. Especially when he found the body in the trunk.

Kisame knew exactly who Uchiha Itachi was, and why he was hiding in two steps left of the middle of nowhere. He knew why cities had not worked out for the kid. He knew Itachi had been top of every class he had ever taken, a star athlete, a veritable paragon in everything he had ever remotely tried. He knew why a kid from a rich family with so many stars to pull from the sky had crashed to the earth instead.

Because when someone asked Kisame to kill something, Kisame liked to have as much information on his target as possible.

Kisame hadn't always been that way. He'd followed orders and not worried about anything beyond that, details had been someone else's problem, and that had not ended well for Kisame. He'd had his own crash and burn moment, rebirthed from a clusterfuck that should have ended him and he had learned.

He had learned how to stop bleeding and stabilize someone, even small people who ending up almost dead in a car by vacant pier in the middle of the night. He had learned what battles to pick, when to fold, and when to firmly give someone a middle finger.

Kisame was smoking on the back porch when he heard the door open behind him.

"You need to get rid of that car," Kisame said. He heard Itachi trying to breathe softly. "Don't move too much. I don't have anything harder than aspirin."

Itachi didn't respond. Kisame finally looked back. He had thought Itachi would be smart enough to find a gun or at least some kind of weapon, but instead he just gingerly cupped his side and leaned against the doorframe. Now he almost looked his age, instead of the terrible mix of ancient and juvenile he'd been since Kisame had first seen him. That was how one knew a kid had been through deep shit.

"I can't," Itachi said.

"Because it belonged to your cousin?" Kisame asked.

Itachi stiffened. He paled because that had to hurt, and he stared at Kisame. Now Kisame felt easy that Itachi didn't have a weapon. "What was his name?"

Kisame saw that mental scramble. That internal flash as Itachi pulled himself from the door frame and stepped forward, as if to stop Kisame from speaking it. Everyone had that reflexive impulse to protect a wound, but that flinch revealed your weak points. Time to get that reflex under control before it caused more damage.

"It was," Kisame drew the words out, watching Itachi. " _Shisui._ "

Itachi stood on the porch in an oversized T-shirt already spotted with blood. He had set his feet perfectly ready. If he weren't injured, Kisame might be worried. As it was, he knew how much blood Itachi had lost. As the boy stood, Kisame could see the threads of will power holding the boy up, because Uchiha Itachi had been taught many things, but not when to stop. 

Uchiha were like sharks that way. The second they stopped, all their bad karma slammed into with them and buried them ten feet underground.

"You went through my car," Itachi said. He did emotionless psycho really well.

Kisame shook his head and stubbed out the cigarette. "Didn't have to."

And, in that genius brain of his, Itachi made all the little connections. Everything fell together and he didn't show any of it except to lean back a fraction. He showed just a sign by widening his eyes a little, hesitating. He had probably thought no one would waste as much time as Kisame had on a hit.

"You're taking me back." Flat, flat, flat. Panic rising up from somewhere deep and _animal_ as a young creature saw death exchanged for _imprisonment._ Kisame wondered how quickly Itachi could kill himself.

"No," Kisame clipped the word with some amusement. "Just got told to kill you. Leave the body somewhere it would get found and ID'ed," Kisame shrugged. "Easy stuff. It would barely have been worth the pay if you weren't hiding in the backass end of nowhere. Even with that car, you're good at disappearing, kid."

"Then?" Itachi still had one hand delicately near the bullet wound.

Kisame stood up. "Sit, before you tear something loose."

Itachi looked up at Kisame, wary, but slid over to sit down. He did it as if he'd had a bullet wound in him before, hissing gently between his teeth as his body settled. Sweat stood out on his face. Not a great sign.

"I don't trust people like your uncle. He doesn't leave loose ends. Kill you or not, at some point, he's coming after me." Kisame pulled out another cigarette. He lit it and handed it to Itachi. Itachi paused but took it.

"I also know what you did," Kisame added. Itachi breathed in gently as if testing the cigarette.

"They don't know everything I did," Itachi said, glancing at Kisame with a stillness that had probably served him through Juvvie. Kisame didn't think Itachi had been born with that eerie stillness. His family had taught it to him.

Kisame grinned. "That is what I thought.” Itachi waited, maybe because he couldn’t form words, but likely because he wanted Kisame to keep talking and reveal what he wanted.

“Which is why I’m wondering why you’re just out here, _hiding_ , when you’re capable of _that._ ” Kisame mused, looking out into the woods. “But that body in the trunk is sloppy.”

“I don’t want…” Itachi began.

“Yes, you do.” Kisame cut Itachi off. Itachi stopped. He held still, rabbit in the sight of the fox. He didn’t speak, lips pressed into a thin line, watching the woods. Waiting. Smoke curled up from the cigarette, and ash fell from the tip.

“I could kill you, collect, and have your uncle on my ass, or I can pretend I never found you and you can keep running like a scare rabbit until someone gets lucky,” Kisame listed the options slowly.

“What do you want?” Itachi asked slowly.

“I’m in the market for a partner,” Kisame’s most wolfish grin spread over his face as Itachi’s dark eyes flashed up to him. “With a very specific set of skills, but, first. . .

". . .the car has to go."  
~  
Kisame drove the car with Itachi following in his old truck. The smell with the body in the trunk was almost unbearable. There was an abandoned launch point where they could slide the car off into the river and let it sink. Kisame put the emergency brake on up the hill and started setting the body up in the front seat. Itachi walked up from the truck and opened the passenger's seat.

"Everything goes," Kisame said.

Itachi met his eyes and opened the glove compartment. He took out a copper ring, a necklace, and a polaroid photograph. Itachi closed the glovebox gently and stepped back, closing the door. Kisame saw the ring go on his finger. Kisame leaned across the corpse to put the car in neutral. He released the emergency brake and leaned out, closing the door.

The car didn't move. Kisame looked through the window to confirm the brake was off and then looked to Itachi, who was giving the car a sick look.

"Give it a push."

Kisame didn't need to take it that far. Itachi was still bleeding, but the kid had taken things out of the car. This was also a test. Everything so far had been a test, sounding out what kind of _damaged_ and _psycho_ was this Uchiha. Itachi met Kisame's gaze and then walked to the back of the car. He set his hands on the trunk. It looked like a benediction. Itachi looked like some martyr come to give the last address, with his long black hair, death pale face, and empty eyes checked out to some greater plane.

In the grand scheme of Itachi's life, this was a death.

Slowly, Itachi leaned into the car. He bowed his head. He said something. Kisame heard Itachi's feet crunch in the disused gravel and a soft, pained exhale escaped the boy. The car didn't move. Itachi sank down, sideways to Kisame, shoulder to the lip of the trunk. He breathed, hair spilling over the trunk of the car. Kisame expected Itachi to keep going down to the ground, crumpling in on himself as his body gave out. But as Kisame watched, Itachi leaned into the car and then twisted to put his back against the trunk. Itachi gathered himself for another push, bracing his back to the car and shoving.

The car shifted forward, creeping and then crawling down the hill as Itachi pushed it again. Itachi staggered upright as downhill momentum began moving the car. Kisame gave the thing a hard shove for good luck as it passed him. He watched it gather speed, passing out of the truck's headlights and into dim darkness before it lurched over the bank. It had picked up enough speed it crashed into the water, rolling on under its own momentum and into the dark depths.

Kisame turned to find Itachi huddled in on himself. Blood was running down his leg now. Red blood.

"Sometimes," Kisame said. "You have to die before you can figure out how to live again." 

Itachi stared past Kisame to the water, straightening in stages and swallowing. He gripped his side. Blood covered the shirt. He had the polaroid in his hand still, copper ring on his finger glazed in blood. This was a proper baptism.

Itachi looked at Kisame, his eyes already too bright. This was not a death, but a purge. An amputation very likely to result in death anyway, because Kisame was no doctor. He was only a butcher.  
~  
Itachi got an infection before they made it to Kansas.

First, he managed to sit up, reclined against the truck seat with his eyes closed or turned away to the scenery. Kisame avoided highways. He liked the twisting backroads to places no one ever wanted to visit. He liked the sense of being _lost_.

When the infection really set in, Itachi could not sit up. His best option for not being in agony was lying on the bench seat of the truck. He would have laid out in the bed of the truck, but it was raining. The problem with the truck seat was it didn't contain enough room for Itachi's torso, legs, and Kisame. That meant Itachi had to curl and hurt to avoid head or legs in Kisame's lap or to avoid touching Kisame at all. Itachi would wake to find he had relaxed and was touching Kisame, contracting painfully in on himself.

"Am I dead enough yet?"

The road was black, the deepest part of the night where everything reached a perfect pitch of solitude. Itachi's soft voice jarred against that. Kisame had been holding Itachi's ankle to keep his leg from sliding off the seat and repositioning the boy's hunch.

"You feel alive enough." Some kind of pulse fluttered under that fevered skin. Kisame had not expected Itachi to go downhill this quickly.

"I'm starting to think," Itachi paused. Breathed. "You're just a run of the mill pedophile with a torture kink. None of what you told me is true, and you’re getting off on the manipulation. Or you're going to 'save me' so I'm indebted to you and go along with your Bonnie and Clyde fantasy."

Kisame snorted at the mental image. The fever had to be raging now to get this much out of Itachi. "Is that how it was with your cousin?” The golden child hushed away, and then Itachi had created a nuclear explosion that had blown his family apart. Itachi having Shisui’s car just confirmed the catalyst. It _said_ many things about Shisui and Itachi.

Itachi went still. So still. "I've always saved myself."

"And if I put you out here, you'd find a way to save yourself," Kisame agreed. Itachi started to make some noise Kisame thought was assent, but Kisame realized it was an unconscious noise of pain.

"He _never_. . ." Itachi said, but his eyes were too bright.

"Of course he didn't," Kisame said. He waited, but Itachi had gone still and silent.

"Roll onto your back," Kisame suggested. Itachi looked at him with fever bright eyes ready to cut Kisame's heart out, but another jostle made his entire body tense, and Itachi slowly, inevitably, rolled onto his back. Kisame raised his elbows to accommodate the awkward knees and ankles and heard Itachi let out a long, slow breath.

"If you're still alive in three hours, I'll get you some narcotics," Kisame promised.

"No," Itachi steadied himself with a foot on the door. Kisame had knees too close to his chin. Kisame didn't complain, and he was very careful that none of his body should touch Itachi's.

“He wasn’t,” Itachi said, tone incoherent, soft and just a little desperate. “He was not anything like me,” Itachi whispered the words, his hands balled into fists, one close to the blood stained wound.

“I am so much worse,” Itachi confessed softly to the dented ceiling of Kisame’s stolen pick-up truck.

And Kisame, knowing the value of words spoken to no one in the dark, kept them.

**Author's Note:**

> What I really wanted to write was Itachi and Kisame being criminals, but I got this instead. Possibly more stand alone stuff in the same universe coming.


End file.
